


Love x Hurts

by nelka7122



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Roller Coaster, Guilt, Light Masochism, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Self-Discovery, These tags are so sad they match my mood perfectly, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 15:26:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7720024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nelka7122/pseuds/nelka7122
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Every time they do it, Killua’s memories of their times spent together resurface and he thinks: just where did it all go wrong?" </p><p>I honestly don't know what to write in this description.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love x Hurts

**Author's Note:**

> A not so happy fan fiction turned kind of happy. Basically...toxic relationship. It's not healthy, never will be, but I wanted to take a darker approach to this ship, mostly because Gon is not JUST a bubbly ball of sunshine. 
> 
> For best reading experiences, copy this whole thing, paste into google translate, and let the English lady read it to you. :)  
> (That's the best way to edit, so time for you all to suffer like I have) 
> 
> Disclaimer: HxH ain't mine but fuck if it was I'd prolly make my ships canon

  
It’s hot.  
  
Too hot.  
  
The rays of the setting sun fall in through the window and directly onto the bed. It’s bothering him, but he’s too tired to close the blinds. His whole body feels heavy, as if it weighs a thousand pounds. He can feel all his muscles relaxing and the weight drags him down into the depths of the mattress; the sheets curl up around him like the soft waves of the ocean. Slowly, he bites his lip. He’s parched, but doesn’t feel like he has enough energy to fix his problem. _It’s too much effort_ , he thinks as he slings the pit of his elbow over his eyes. With the light no longer blinding him, he allows the gentle breeze to lull him to sleep.  
  
Hours later, he’s jolted awake by a shift in the mattress. Lazily, his eyes open and close in response to the change in his surroundings. He doesn’t bother to look to his side; he knows who is there. He feels as if his fatigue has only increased, despite having just slept. It’s bothersome but that’s the effect of being prematurely awakened.  His throat feels dryer than the Sahara and it makes it hard to breathe. He wants to quench his thirst, and he knows that this time his discomfort is too great to ignore. With great effort, he shifts his body and plants one leg firmly on the ground. However, before the other leg can join, he feels a sharp pain in his wrist.  
  
Fingers are digging into his pastel skin, sending prickles all down his arm. The force is hard enough to leave imprints and he knows he’s probably going to have a finger shaped bruise later. Before any sound can even escape his lips, his body is dragged back to the centre of the bed. A figure hovers over him, pressing him down and holding his arms hostage above his head with a single palm. He feels a pressure on his right hip, fingers scratching over his pale skin in an attempt to slide his boxers down.  
  
“Gon, not now” He chokes out. His throat still feels scratchy, as if someone made him swallow a thousand needles; a thousand needles for a thousand broken dreams and promises.  
  
Gon doesn’t reply to him, and Killua instantly knows something is wrong. His gaze falls to the face hovering above his. He struggles to make out Gon’s expression, since there is nothing but a tiny sliver of moonlight illuminating it. However, as soon as his fears are confirmed, he tenses. Gon’s face looks grim; his lips are set into a firm line and his eyes are empty and sunken in, devoid of any joy.  
  
Killua’s mind flashes to the first time that Gon ever wore such an expression. He remembers it well; feeling cold and frozen, and a wave of anguish washing over him. He remembers how hard Gon’s words had hit him back then, remembers the aftermath of his rage. He remembers the sensation of Gon’s bony body pressing against his back as he carried him to the hospital. Yet he also remembers all the other times that followed, and how that first time had been the first of many.  
  
In that moment, Killua understands perfectly well what is going to happen and how it’s going to happen. It happens so often by now that he knows the drill. He has it all mapped out in his mind, step by step, because every single time it’s the same routine, and there is no point in fighting it.  
  
His muscles relax, going completely limp as he lets himself be used as a stress reliever. His desires are made irrelevant in the span of a single second. The dryness of his throat or his fatigue…none of that matters anymore. Nothing ever matters when they do it like this; practically like animals. And every time they do it, Killua’s memories of their times spent together resurface and he thinks: _just where did it all go wrong?_  
  
: : : :  
: : : :  
  
  
Their very first meeting was no accident. It was fate that brought those two boys together at the 287 th Hunter Exam, and it was their initial spark that ultimately saved them both. Gon was the sun to Killua, and Killua was like the fickle sky supporting him; the sun rose and the sky was bright, and when the sun was away, darkness would creep in. They were like two polar opposites, like magnets that were drawn together by the very force that was meant to keep them apart.  
  
For the first time in his life, Gon had someone to relate to.  
  
For the first time in his life, Killua had someone to save him.  
  
After countless years of physical and mental torture and abuse, Killua lost himself in a mental maze with no escape, yet looking into Gon’s bright eyes somehow lit the light at the end of the tunnel. His smile was so contagious that Killua found himself smiling along like any other kid his age. No worries, no fears, no dark past to keep him at bay.  
  
Gon allowed him to experience all the emotions he locked away in his heart, and because it was his first time feeling that way, some of those emotions ended up being too powerful to handle. Every time that Gon looked at him, smiled at him, or said something embarrassing, he would feel a tightness in his chest. At first, it was a small pang at the bottom of his heart, but with time the disease spread rapidly across his body, making him feel hot and flustered. With every hint, every remark, Killua’s chest swelled and swelled until he burst, and the impact shook him with the formidable weight of his emotions.  
  
The realization hit him.  
  
Gon was his first crush.  
  
And he had fallen hard.  
  
In his desperate attempt to escape his past, he flew too close to his beloved sun, and the sun melted his wings, and sent him spiralling towards the ocean into the deepest trenches where his feelings should have stayed; hidden and obsolete.  
  
Gon was ultimately the one who crushed him.  
  
And everything came crashing down as a monster was awakened; a monster that could not be subdued. As the switch was flipped, a realization hit Killua; Gon never really took his feelings into consideration, never truly understood how much he _meant_ to him. Killua took that as a sign and he ran. He took Alluka and he ran as far as he could, just like his family taught him; only this time the powerful opponent he was running from wasn’t a physical being, but rather his broken emotions.  
  
The years that followed were full of sparse emails and occasional voice calls. It didn’t take Killua long to notice how far they had drifted. They rarely called anymore, and their conversations were reduced to a mere “How are you?” or a “What have you been up to?” As time went on, Killua was struck with a fearful realization; he forgot what Gon’s voice sounded like.  The very voice that reassured him so many times, the voice that told him everything was going to be ok. Phrases like “I want to stay with Killua” or “Killua’s my best friend” ….they were nothing more than a distant memory.  
  
At the time of this epiphany, Killua had just put Alluka to bed. As soon as she fell asleep, he gave her a kiss on the forehead and went to sit at the edge of his bed. There were very few times when Killua actually gave into his emotions and broke down, and that was one of them. He remembered thinking that any form of torture would be better, if only he didn’t have to feel that way.  
  
The pain of a broken heart seemed to be greater than death itself.  
  
The only way to solve the problem was to come to a difficult conclusion. He decided to throw his feelings away into a river, hoping that it was the river Lethe. He watched as they drifted away from him, out of sight and out of mind. Why should he keep them around? Why should he indulge himself in a perfidious sense of hope? Those emotions were nothing more than an illusion, and he didn’t need a mirage to make him think that there was still an oasis in the middle of a desert.  
  
Gon shattered that vision the moment he stopped writing. Killua knew that the relationship was strained and that trying to start a conversation would only lead to more despair. He decided that this would be the last time that he followed Gon’s lead, so he too left that chapter of his life behind.  
  
Yes, Killua may have been the one who ran away, but Gon was the one who abandoned Killua.  
  
: : : :  
: : : :  
  
Years went by, each passing year going by faster than the last. The constant cycle repeating itself, with flowers blooming in the spring, and ultimately falling in the winter; how each year started off with a sense of hope, and ended up with drunken nights alone. By then, Alluka and Killua had parted ways, and the only things that kept his busy mind occupied were those odd jobs from now and again. Yet every night he’d still return home (aka, the hotel he was staying in), completely exhausted, and his eyes would shift, expecting to see an equally exhausted male lying next to him.  
  
But that was nothing more than a ghost of a memory.  
  
Until ghosts started coming back to life.  
  
A simple request changed everything, and the mysterious strings of fate were once again wrapped tightly around Killua’s body, controlling him like a puppet. He was the well-known Killua Zoldyck, so being asked to be an examiner was going to be proposed eventually. Having nothing else to do, he agreed due to nostalgia tugging at his heart strings.  
  
And just like all those years ago, he had a fateful encounter.  
  
His eyes caught sight of a familiar figure; a figure that looked practically the same but…different. Taller, leaner, a body that was more defined. Yet the hair was the same, as was the face and smile. He didn’t notice Killua at first, and for the longest time, all Killua could do was just stare, not even noticing how his explanation of the current phase was abruptly cut off by his sudden inability to produce sounds.  
  
“And after that what happens?”  
  
A voice from the crowd called out. Killua was snapped out of his trance and his gaze reluctantly shifted away.   
  
“Right – um – I – “  
  
It was getting harder and harder to form coherent sentences. His sapphire eyes kept on flickering back up to that very same figure. Every time that he would look up, his thoughts would get even more jumbled around than before, until finally he looked up and found that _he_ was no longer there. For a very brief moment, Killlua felt panicked, thinking perhaps he had seen a ghost, but a sudden voice coming from his side reassured him that this was no illusion. He jumped slightly due to shock and turned his head to face a feeling that should have been long forgotten.  
  
It was like a dam inside Killua broke. The dam that was holding back all of his deepest feelings, hidden desires, and distraught emotions was in shambles. Every little speck of ‘want’, every feeling of ‘need’ came into light, but what he wanted more than anything was to run. However, his legs felt too numb, like steel pillars that were slowly being turned into jelly.  
  
“Oh, hi Killua. Didn’t know you were an examiner as well.”  
  
That gentle smile, the radiating innocence; that remained constant. But something was off, and as Killua gazed into Gon’s chocolate irises, he realized what that was. Those eyes that illuminated his whole world changed. Those eyes were once a blazing light of hope. Those eyes now looked like sullen shadows hiding behind a false exuberance. Instantly, he wondered if he had been the one who extinguished Gon’s fire, yet at the time he didn’t know just how deep old scars ran.  
  
: : : :  
: : : :  
  
The initial spark that had brought them together in the first place was reborn. Their souls clicked like two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly into one another. They were no longer kids, they both realized by now what they both wanted, and it was easier for them to admit what their long repressed feelings had been towards each other. Gon always had a way of making Killua comply with his demands, and even though he offered up some bullshit excuse for his absence, Killua’s emotional instability prevented him from saying ‘no’.    
  
A few nights out and shared drinks and they were practically inseparable again. They did things that Killua had dreamed of so long ago, things that kept him up at night as his mind replayed the fictional scenes over and over again while he touched himself in the most intimate of places. The first time his dreams came true was bliss, like getting kissed by a thousand angels.  
  
Gon was gentle and patient, focusing solely on Killua and what Killua wanted and what Killua needed. Hands roamed all over his body, lips grazed over his skin; nipping, biting, sucking at his most sensitive spots. His skin became littered with mauve love bites, and all he could think about was how good it felt to be claimed as a lover. The feeling of Gon slipping inside and driving him to the limit filled his whole body with nothing but the feeling of euphoria as they both moaned each other’s names and collapsed into a jumbled mess.  
  
Their relationship looked to be so perfect, but looks can be deceiving.  
  
Gon’s ‘switch’ was faulty. Things changed, and over the years he managed to harbour so much animosity that sometimes he’d let it slip. It was never as bad as that first time when he forced his body to go beyond its physical limit, but when he snapped, he completely lost himself and Killua had to watch over and over how the same horror unfolded before his eyes. Killua could never forget the look on Gon’s face as he fell victim to his rage and committed deeds that Killua never dared to commit. Every time, the feeling of pain and sadness only continued to swell as blood splattered on his cheek, making his eyes grow wide with panic. That feeling was absolute torture. And to add to his grievances, his mind kept on replaying the same messages over and over again; _what is this was my fault? What if I did this to him?_  
  
Guilt was the worst medicine for his heart aches, and it was that guilt that led to a loveless struggle. It was a bad idea from the very moment it was formed, but it was still a better alternative than watching Gon destroy himself. There was a way to redirect that rage, and Killua took his chances, offering himself as an outlet. Killua knew that Gon would never go as far as killing him. After all, how much pain could he inflict on someone he loved?   
  
More than Killua had bargained for.  
  
But Killua was still willing to take that risk if it brought him a peace of mind in exchange. The deal was set and the devil’s contract was signed.  
  
: : : :  
: : : :  
  
And Killua reminds himself every time why he subjects himself to this form of cruelty. He always ends up in the same position; his face is pressed firmly against a pillow, and one arm is nestled underneath, pushing the pillow closer to his face. His eyes are shut, his breathing is laboured, and his other arm is being pulled back with excessive force. His back is arched, and his knees are the only thing keeping him supported. Still, his legs feel weak and his whole body is shaking. He feels as if he will break at any moment and his body will collapse down onto the bed. He’s scared, yes, but not because he fears for the physical wellbeing of his body. Rather, he dreads thinking about what would happen if Gon never came back from his ‘episode’.  
  
Given their current circumstances, he has every reason to feel that way. Gon is behind him, pulling his arm back in order to restrict his movements. His other arm is on Killua’s bare hip and his fingers are digging into Killua’s side, leaving small crimson crescents in their wake. Their clothes are scattered all over the room, although it’s likely that Killua will never get the chance to wear his again, given how Gon had literally ripped them right off.  
  
As opposed to when they make love, this is just sex, and Gon doesn’t bother with the formalities. He doesn’t care for foreplay or preparation. What matters is satisfying his instinctual urges and extinguishing his fury. Killua’s pleasure doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if he’s in pain. That’s precisely why they do it in this position; face hidden and voice muffled by the pillow. It’s all because Killua wants to keep his expressions hidden from view, because if Gon actually saw his expressions, the guilt would chip away at the cracks in his mentality and he’d really end up losing it.

  
Gon wastes no more time and slips himself inside. At least he bothers to use lubricant, but that’s still purely to ease his entry. Killua can feel him entering, inch by inch. He can feel Gon’s sizable length pulsing inside him, stretching him out. He can’t help it anymore. His head jerks slightly, face contorting in agony as he lets out a strangled groan. Immediately after, he can feel Gon’s hand leave his hip and travel up his back, sending shivers down his spine. In an instant, his fingers curl around Killua’s silver tresses. His hair is practically pulled from his skull as Gon’s hand shoves his head down, forcing it back into the pillow. For a moment, he can’t breathe. He tries to take in a deep breath but it feels as if he’s drowning; drowning in pain.  
  
Finally, his head is released and the hand holding him down returns to his hip. Quickly, he takes in a deep breath, followed by short pants. That’s when Gon decides to start moving. Killua feels like he’s going to die and he almost makes the same mistake twice, but before any sound can leave his mouth, he bites his bottom lip. Hard.  
  
If only more pain could ease his suffering.  
  
It doesn’t.  
  
It hurts more.  
  
With each additional thrust, Killua can feel his mind start to break, his thoughts turning into mush as he starts to lose his grip on reality. He doesn’t bother to count how many seconds have passed, how many minutes. He doesn’t bother to count how many times Gon has moved in and out. He barely registers the slight shift in their positions or the sharp pain on his shoulder. Everything else hurts too much for him to notice something like that. But it doesn’t stop there. After a while, it starts to feel good.    
  
It feels good because it _hurts_.  
  
The memories of all those years of torture resurface in Killua’s mind. All those times he was beaten or maimed…all those times he was _trained_ on how to please someone in order to ensure the prosperity of his genes. Even after years of running away from the past, he still can’t escape the truth, because the horrors will still continue to haunt him.  
  
And every time he subjects himself to pain, the scars only run deeper.  
  
Masochism.  
  
The word is masochism, and every time they do it like this, he becomes more and more convinced that that’s what he is.  
  
A masochist.  
  
Those treacherous times broke him, broke his mind. After intense moments of agony, the mind begins to dwindle, and the easiest way to get accustomed to it is to be convinced that it’s pleasing. He _likes_ it when it hurts. He likes how much it hurts when Gon ruthlessly shoves himself in and out at a rapid pace. He likes how his back arches from being pushed and pulled around. He loves the feeling of his hair being pulled, loves it when Gon’s palms dig into his hips, restraining him completely. He’s completely helpless and he loves it.  
  
And he loves it only because he hates it.  
  
His own feelings disgust him.  
  
He’s supposed to be strong, proud.  
  
Yet he’s been reduced to nothing but an object.  
  
It’s disgusting, but his mind justifies it.  
  
_It’s only because you may have caused this._  
  
_You should take responsibility._  
  
_But is it really taking responsibility when you enjoy it?_  
  
_No, I don’t enjoy it._  
  
_It hurts._  
  
_But it hurts so good._  
  
The whole room is filled with nothing but the sound of flesh slapping against flesh. It’s cold, loveless…No words are exchanged between them and all Killua has to think about is the same mental conflict over and over. He struggles to think of the time when he was most hurt, but then it hits him…The time Gon told him that his issues didn’t concern Killua, as if he was never needed in the first place.  
  
A sudden aberration pops into his mind.  
  
Was he ever really needed?  
  
Was he still needed?  
  
If Killua objected to his advances, would Gon go back to taking lives, or would he find someone else to do this with?  
  
Palm’s distant words ring around his head.  
  
_“You’re the one he needs the most”_  
  
That was never true.  
  
It’s _not_ true.  
  
Now he’s imagining it; some random guy curled under Gon as he lets out his frustrations. Or maybe it’s a woman. Anything is possible with such an unpredictable character. The mere thought makes him feel sick. It shakes his stomach up with unease, and the constant pounding is merely magnifying his discomfort. He can taste blood in his mouth and it’s probably due to how hard he’s been biting his lip.  
  
For the first time in years, he wants to cry. He can feel the tears pooling at the edges of his crystalline eyes. The strings inside him snap, turning him into a broken instrument. Unable to control himself, he lets a small sob escape from between his lips. It shakes his whole body, making him numb from the billions of shivers passing down his spine. This is the second time he’s shown his discomfort, and this time his cry disturbs the whole rhythm of their session. All too abruptly, Gon stops.  
  
Silence falls between them. No words are exchanged and Killua absolutely hates it. He hates how Gon doesn’t say anything, but he also knows that Gon simply _won’t_ say anything. If anything is going to change, he has to be the first one to speak, and maybe it’s time that he does speak out. He needs to get this off his mind.  
  
“Would you do it…would you do this with anyone else?”  
  
His voice is shaking and his throat feels constricted. Silence falls upon them again, but this time it feels even more unbearable than before. Killua’s thoughts begin to spiral out of control, becoming completely irrational. He can’t control his emotions anymore because by trying to supress them just like his family had taught him to, he’s only made it worse.

He can’t control himself.  
  
He feels the tears leaving his eyes. They seep into the pillow, forgotten, but the sensation still remains. It burns. Silently, he stays still, sobbing and listening to Gon’s heavy breathing from behind him. He feels the night breeze hit his sweat covered back, making him shiver in response. He feels cold, so god damn cold and dead, like a withered rose. Where is his sun to warm him up? Where is his sun to breathe life back into him?  
  
And just like that, he feels a small speck of light on his torso, forcing his body to shift positions. His back collapses against the mattress and his body is finally enveloped in a scorching heat as Gon presses his hot body against his in an awkward embrace, now being careful not to squish him when only moments ago he was ready to practically tear Killua’s limbs off. He presses his forehead against Killua’s, and although Gon’s eyes are closed, Killua can’t bring himself to look at his face.  
  
He closes his eyes.  
  
He can still feel the remains of his tears falling, consequently creating messy, wet lines down his cheeks. The moonlight reflects off the translucent liquid, making his face seem too ethereal, almost as if he was a ghost. He’s still afraid to open his eyes, but the tranquillity in Gon’s voice reassures him.  
  
“No”  
  
He can feel his rough, calloused fingers brushing against his cheeks, wiping away all his sorrow. He wills himself to look. His sapphire orbs lock onto the dark eyes in front of him. Most of the hostility has faded, but now a new emotion has taken its place, and it’s exactly what Killua wanted to avoid. The realization slowly creeping in like a venomous snake. One bite, one look at Killua and Gon is left frozen, each passing second becoming more agonizing then the next. The pain in Killua’s eyes reflecting in Gon’s brown irises; sadness, sorrow, worry, _pity_.  
  
“I wouldn’t do this with anyone else. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Killua. I’m sorry it has to be you”  
  
_I’m sorry too._  
  
Killua realizes the real nature of their relationship. He remembers that dodgeball match on Greed Island. He understands that Gon’s going to continue hurting him in various different ways and Killua is going to be fine because he’s the one offering to be hurt. He realizes how much Gon depends on him and that’s the only reason why he would.  
  
“Then I’m glad.” The words leave Killua’s lips in a broken whisper.  
  
Yet his chest feels oddly light. He’s almost ecstatic, as if he’s been liberated in some way. The whole mood changes. This time, Gon moves his hands up and down Killua’s arms before settling in his palms and entwining their fingers. He presses their lips together in a soft kiss and Killua lets him; willingly and whole heartedly.  
  
Gon’s tongue slips inside and Killua immediately responds with equal passion. Their lips move together like in an orchestrated dance, a heated tango. All too suddenly, Gon’s lips leave his, leaving nothing more than a string of saliva that’s quickly broken as he sinks his teeth into the soft flesh of Kilua’s neck. A small bite followed by nips and sucks trailing all the way down his neck to his chest. He feels Gon’s fingers gently graze over his erection. He hisses, back arching high in response. For the first time on that night, he feels excited.  
  
A few strokes and he feels Gon prodding at his entrance again, only this time he’s desperately seeking permission. Killua can’t hold himself back and he quickly gives the confirmation. He feels Gon entering again, this time far more slowly, and although it still hurts, he’s fine with it. It’s better like this.  
  
With his slow rhythm, Gon manages to drive Killua to his limit. The room becomes filled with the sound of desperate moans tied in with incomprehensible sounds of names being thrown around. Killua’s eyes scrunch shut and he can see white stars flickering across his closed lids as his back arches and he releases himself with his orgasm. Gon follows close behind, coming inside. It fills Killua up to the brim, making his whole body feel hot and numb. After they’re both done, Gon collapses on top of Killua before rolling to the other side of the bed. Their breathing is hard and deep, with hearts still pounding rapidly and ears ringing from the beat.  
  
But a routine is still a routine, and despite the change in pace on Gon’s part, Killua still has his own ritual to follow. He waits until Gon falls asleep before he slips out of bed. First, he makes sure to satisfy his thirst. His throat has been killing him for hours and the crying only has made it worse. Once he’s satisfied, he ventures into the bathroom in order to assess the damage.  
  
The lights hurt his eyes as he turns them on. He takes one look in the mirror and decides to close his eyes shut in disgust. Now that he’s gotten one glimpse, he doesn’t even want to look at himself. There is a hand shaped bruise on his hips with clearly visible traces of blood falling from accompanying crescents. His arm also has a matching hand print, but at least this one doesn’t have any of those crimson marks.  
  
Reluctantly, he manages to reopen his eyes and he stares at the downcast figure before him. He manages to lift his arm up and rub away the tension in his shoulder. It hurts, like a bruise, but he barely remembers acquiring it. It’s a bite mark, one that’s far more visible than the hickeys surrounding it. His fingers trail over the purple bruises. It’s the only marking he wants to have on his skin. He doesn’t want to focus on anything else, by now he just wants to go back to bed but he still has cleaning up to do.  
  
His whole lower abdomen is white due to semen and he wipes it away with a wet wash towel. Once he’s relatively clean, he splashes his face with cold water and leaves. Normally, he would go to sleep on the couch. It was always his ritual to distance himself from Gon. But now he feels as if he should give it another chance. He goes back to the bed only to be greeted with the soft sounds of Gon’s deep breathing. What is he supposed to do? Lay on the edge and avoid him like the plague, or curl up next to him like a cute little kitten?  
  
Neither.  
  
He crawls under the sheets and lays flat on his back. It’s not like he’s going to be able to get a wink in anymore anyway. His thoughts won’t let him, because they are still clouded with the misfortunes that come with predicting the future outcome of their unpredictable relationship.  
  
Killua can only hope that Gon can rediscover himself and his true values before he ends up completely destroying himself and, in the process, breaking Killua in two.


End file.
